


naught in a word but what we make it

by WingsOfTime



Series: ikael [22]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Found Family, Gen, Queerplatonic relationship, Shadowbringers Spoilers, Sleepiness, aromantic woL, for all of it but especially the end, important talking but on a bench this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-15 23:06:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19630744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingsOfTime/pseuds/WingsOfTime
Summary: Post Shadowbringers. At this step of the journey, there is time to think. To reflect. To choose.





	naught in a word but what we make it

**Author's Note:**

> major spoilers for pretty much all of shadowbringers but especially the end bits! i hope you like this because it feels very special to me <3

Thancred is… troubled.

By all rights he should be celebrating with everyone else, and he is, he is. But he is also regretting his chosen avoidance of alcohol for the night—no thanks to Urianger for that—because it is leaving him enough clarity of mind to think. To dwell.

On Ikael, really.

When he had been lying on his sickbed for long days, unconscious body trembling and wracked with Light, the memory of what had happened when they had dealt the finishing blow to Lord Vauthry had plagued Thancred's every waking hour. Now he is relieved, of course, that everything eventually turned out for the best. But it is not something so easily brushed off. They had all been so… desperate. So scared.

None more than Ikael himself.

_The final Lightwarden is laid on the ground before them. Ikael does not advance. Instead he looks behind at them, for reassurance. He looks hesitant. Afraid._

_“What if…” His voice is shaking. “What if I…”_

_His wide green eyes look at each of them in turn. Urianger nods. Ryne encourages him, twin hope and trust dancing in her eyes._

_You can do it._

_Ikael rushes to them. Envelops Ryne in a hug. “Are you sure?” he asks. His voice is breathless. Trembling._

_Yes. Yes._

And then they had failed. Lying on the ground, curled in a ball of agony, Ikael had looked so, so terrified.

_Helpless tears crawl down his face. Help me, he whispers inaudibly. Please. Please._

_Hand outstretched towards them when Emet-Selch condemns him to be nothing but a murdering monster. To turn on those he holds dearest to him, those he never wants to leave alone ever again._

_“No…”_

_And then he collapses, one last “Please” dying on his lips._

Thancred could _really_ do with a drink.

It is all fine and dandy now, of course. Crisis averted, worlds saved, all of that. But Thancred cannot lay things aside so _easily_. One does not simply… recover from all of that. Just like that. Magic, poof. Especially not someone like Ikael. Thancred, for all five years may have distanced his memory, knows he has never seen Ikael as terrified as he had been back then. And he does remember, because it has all rushed back to him over these past few weeks with the subtlety of an undammed flood, how _Ikael_ works. Utterly and completely.

The celebrations are beginning to die down somewhat, although Thancred has no doubt they will continue well into the newly returned night. He is sitting away by a staircase, taking a moment of peace, quiet, and observation.

Ikael is with him. He had curled up against Thancred to sleep, laying his head in his lap. Thancred sits now, carding a hand through his hair, holding him securely.

_“Where did you go?”_

_To find a cure. An impossible task._

_“You left me,” Ikael says in a small voice, staring at the ground. “You left me all alone.”_

_Ikael…_

_“I-I… wanted to spend my last moments with all of you. With m-my friends. Who ca—who care—who care about me.”_

The look he had given Ryne when she had suggested, with only good intentions, that they leave him behind… Thancred has never been seriously upset with the child, and he doubts he ever could be, but in that moment he had wished oh so dearly to snatch the words back from her mouth.

_“But i-it’s dangerous. I-I-I don’t want to… to hurt you.”_

_If you fall, we fall with you_. _If we die, we all die together._

_Ikael goes to Thancred and hugs him so, so tightly. Thancred closes his eyes, ignores the heat pricking at them—he has to be strong, because gods know no one else will be—and holds him as close as he possibly can._

“May I sit with you?”

Thancred glances up, stirred from his thoughts. Alisaie stands in front of him, exhaustion in her hooded eyes and in the set of her gentle smile. Thancred nods, and she seats herself snugly on his opposite side, pressed close against him. Thancred shifts to allow her to settle comfortably, keeping one arm wrapped around Ikael’s torso.

“Is he asleep?” Alisaie asks softly, staring down at Ikael in Thancred's lap. And his hand, moving slowly and tenderly through his hair.

“Yes. He is all but spent.” Thancred keeps his voice quiet. The corner of his mouth lifts a little. “Much like your brother.”

Alisaie gives what could be a laugh at that, although it comes out more as a rough exhale. She keeps gazing at Ikael, something indecipherable and nameless, yet glad in her eyes.

“Can I…?” She extends her hand hesitantly, fingertips hovering ilms from his head.

“Go ahead.” Thancred removes his hand. He is not going to claim monopoly over the Ikael-hair-petting. After all, even Ryne’s hair isn’t this soft.

(Y'shtola’s is, perhaps, but Thancred values his life and special bits too much to try anything.)

Alisaie reaches out those last few ilms, stroking Ikael’s head with a tentative hand. She curls her fingers around his ear, and it flicks sleepily.

“Oh…” she mutters, expression melting into something tired and unguarded.

Thancred feels the same way, although he at least can control how much he shows it. _No you can’t_ , Ikael’s voice throws back at him teasingly, and Thancred's lips quiver into a quickly suppressed smile.

He opens his mouth to rib Alisaie, perhaps, over her uncharacteristic show of sentiment, but what comes out is, “I don’t want to leave him alone.”

Alisaie looks at him. Thancred stares back, and then his gaze drops, down to Ikael and the steadiness of his breathing.

“Not again,” he confesses. He will get lost in his doubts, but recent experience has taught him to voice them, not to leave them inside to fester and rot. “Not after how he was like before we left for the Tempest. Do you remember how desolate he was? That look in his eye?”

Alisaie’s fingers arch in Ikael’s hair. “I will never forget,” she says softly.

“It is not,” Thancred continues, “for me. Because I…” He trails off. His mind has caught up with what he is saying, and finds it wanting.

“It is for you.” Alisaie voices his thoughts. “At least a little bit. But more for him, I think.”

Thancred nods, ducking his head. “I’ve missed the dear little fellow quite a bit,” he admits. “After all, we’ve always been quite… close…”

He frowns a little, squinting into the night. “Wait. Why am I talking to _you_ about all of this?”

Alisaie glowers at him, although the lack of heat gives away that it is mostly for show. “Who would you rather talk to, Alphinaud? I was with Ikael last, you know, back home. _We_ were quite close too, even if I am not you.”

She sniffs, but leans heavily against Thancred's side, so he does not think she _truly_ holds it against him. Still, there is a touch of tired resignation to her voice when she speaks next. “I think he might want to stick around you for a little while.”

“I’ve actually been thinking of asking him to join Ryne and I once we set out again,” Thancred replies. “So I take it you believe he will agree?”

Alisaie sighs. “Probably,” she mumbles, drawing her hand away from Ikael’s hair to gather it close to her chest.

“Jealous?” Thancred teases, but gently. He raises his arm, now uncomfortably wedged against Alisaie, and drapes it over her shoulders to allow her to lean into him further. Is he a sleeping roll now? “Do not worry; I’m sure he’ll pester me about visiting you as often as he deems necessary.”

“I want to see you and Ryne too, Thancred,” Alisaie murmurs as her eyes flutter shut. Her face slackens, exhaustion finally beginning to take over.

“Are you falling asleep on me too?” Thancred asks her. She doesn’t reply. “Hullo, Alisaie?”

The slump of her form against his becomes heavier. Thancred sighs, shaking his head. “I am telling your brother,” he mutters, although her last words have made him smile. He stares up at the night sky, letting his eyes roam over the twinkling sea of unfamiliar stars.

After a while he becomes aware of another, taller presence approaching him. He straightens his neck, wincing at its stiffness. There stands Urianger, gazing at them peacefully.

“My lady hath succumbed to the demands of slumber, I see,” he observes, stepping closer. Thancred makes a tired noise at him.

“There’s no more room on this bench,” he warns. “And you’re a tad too heavy for me to support, I’m afraid. Although you could sit on Ikael.”

Urianger’s face creases into a weary, wan smile. “I wouldst not ask any more of him. Even less to assume the role of a seat, much as it would amuse thee.”

Thancred _tch_ s. Urianger adds, in a lower voice, “We hath all demanded far too much of ourselves. I am glad to see him and my lady both take rest.”

_Urianger drops down on one knee, head bowed, eyes downcast. He speaks, but Ikael is shaking his head, again and again and again, expression slowly breaking. Finally, Urianger falls silent, ubiquitous loquaciousness failing him. And Ikael steps forwards and embraces him._

_“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m so sorry you had to do that. It must have been so hard. I’m so sorry.”_

Urianger kneels down in front of him. Thancred, struck by a tickling fancy, reaches out and pats him on the head.

“I thank thee.” Urianger’s voice is drier than Ahm Arang. Thancred's arm goes back to lightly rest on Ikael. “I shall take my lady to be tended to, if thou shalt allow me. Where ist the child?”

“Ikael put her to bed.” Thancred smiles sheepishly as he releases Alisaie for Urianger to take. “After lecturing me for a bell or so for offering her alcohol. Honestly, it was just a sip.”

Urianger gives him a sidelong glance that could be interpreted as many things, but which Thancred generously decides to read as fondness.

“Fortune tend to the poor girl,” Urianger mutters as he hefts Alisaie into his arms and straightens up. “Now that thou hast fully accepted thy role as her guardian, I fear it may be naught but a pernicious change.”

“Hey,” says Thancred.

Urianger’s eyes flick to Ikael. “He shalt be an influence too, if allowed,” he mutters. He fixes Thancred with a pointed gaze, holds it for an uncomfortably long time, and then leaves.

Thancred lets out a long breath. “Don’t know what that was all about,” he lies to empty air.

“It’s b’cause you’re a shite father,” a tired, hoarse voice mutters from his lap. “… Ale to a twelve-year-old. Honestly.”

“Ikael.” Thancred moves his arms as Ikael shifts, settling against him more comfortably. He is not surprised that he is awake; he had felt his breathing change some minutes ago, of course. “Are you in the habit of dropping eaves now?”

Ikael has seemingly decided that lying across Thancred's lap is the best position he can be in. He settles back down and stares up at him.

“I don’t wanna go back home,” he just barely whispers. “Home is… home is where _you_ are. A-and… nowhere else.”

Thancred's eyes soften. “That’s quite a dramatic declaration,” he murmurs, threading his fingers through Ikael’s hair once more. “Are you sure you would not rather be back at the Source? Alisaie tells me you had been trying to spend more time with Tataru.”

“Five years, you silly, cowardly bastard,” Ikael murmurs, his voice drenched in nothing but affection. Thancred's eyes flutter. “Show me that you’ve grown. Come on, you can do it. You’ve gotten this far.”

Thancred swallows. His fingers flit along the skin of Ikael’s face, dipping into his scar, swiping across his cheek.

“I love you dearly,” he finally confesses. His voice doesn’t quite crack. “And… recent events have taught me that when that is the case, it is best if it is known.”

He both sees and feels Ikael’s smile. “Go on,” he encourages.

“Ryne has grown fond of you as well, because you are… at least consistently nice to her.” Thancred returns the smile, albeit tentatively. “And so I would like to ask you to come with us. For us to all be a family together, of a sort. Please.”

Ikael straightens up, uttering a quick “Sorry” at Thancred's wince when he elbows him in the ribs, and burrows his face into his neck. His arms come up to hold Thancred close.

“I love you too,” he mumbles. “And of course I’ll go with you. Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Thancred closes his eyes. He inhales deeply, breathing in the scents of lavender, eucalyptus—Ikael has bathed—and the seemingly ever-present smell of something freshly-baked and sweet (It wouldn’t surprise him at all if Ikael has some sort of pastry on him at this very moment).

“You’re not _in_ love with me, right?” Ikael mumbles a beat later, completely ruining the moment.

Thancred snorts softly. “I don’t think so,” he says. His voice is still a bit hoarse. “Is that bad?”

“No,” Ikael replies happily. “I think that just makes this mean so much more to me.”

“Because you avoid romantic entanglements like they’re the plague?” Thancred asks, amused.

Ikael breathes in for a long moment. Thancred wonders if he smells like home.

“Because now I can finally be with someone who feels the same way.” Ikael’s voice begins to shake. Thancred readies himself for tears. “Who—who doesn’t expect any more from me than what I can give. I-I’ve always wanted—I’ve always want—”

Thancred tightens his arms, turning his head to press a kiss to Ikael’s hair. “I know,” he says. “I know. And I do not intend, my dear, to let you feel wanting for love from someone ever again. Not when Ryne and I are here.”

Ikael’s nose pokes his collarbone. “Thank you,” he mumbles.

Thancred looks up at the stars. Thinks of all the places they can see in an old new world, just the three of them, as a family.

“Thank _you_ ,” he says.

~*~

**Author's Note:**

> ive said before on tumblr that thancred and ikael are in a qpr, but i've never specifically stated it in writing. consider this a statement in writing! if you have any questions about it or them or just wanna chat, im @draw-you-coward on tumblr. thank you for reading i hoped you liked this! <3


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